Movie review: 'Florida Project' is more magical than Disney World

Friday

Oct 13, 2017 at 7:15 AMOct 15, 2017 at 12:03 PM

By Al Alexander/For The Patriot Ledger

It’s probably a stretch to compare wunderkind filmmaker Sean Baker with author John Steinbeck, but hear me out. For one, the two auteurs share an affinity for people and families living on the edge of poverty. And two, they see grace and nobility in the ability of the downtrodden to never yield to their plight. They may have little or no money, but they aren’t going to let that stop them from embracing life the best way they know how. And so it is in the masterfully made “The Florida Project,” Baker’s ode to the modern Tom Joads who find joy whenever and wherever they can find it.

I’d be tempted to call this gorgeous, unbelievably sad movie a sort of contemporary “Of Mice and Men,” but in actuality it’s more like “Of Mouse and Children,” as Baker movingly tells the tale of a handful of resilient 6-year-olds living hand to mouth in low-budget motels just beyond the shadows of a gleaming, fantasy-filled Walt Disney World in Orlando. It’s literally just over the rainbow, but a place they’ll probably never set foot in due to circumstances far beyond their control.

Led by tomboy extraordinaire, Moonee (amazing newcomer Brooklynn Prince), and abetted by her best pal, Scooty (Christopher Rivera), and newest friend, Jancey (adorable Valeria Cotto), the gang is all set for summer vacation, much to the annoyance of Bobby (Willem Dafoe at his best), the put-upon super at the pastel-purple motel that most of the kids call home. Lost upon everyone is the irony of the joint’s name: Magic Castle. A quick look around at the living conditions and almost complete lack of adult supervision, it’s immediately clear the place is anything but “magic.” But kids, knowing only what they know, are oblivious to how bad they and their mostly single parents have it. All they care about is instigating fun any place they can find it, like tormenting Bobby by cutting the building’s power, hustling ice cream cones off sympathetic tourists, or seeing who can unleash the wettest, sloppiest loogie.

If their daily, carefree adventures sound like a 21st Century version of Our Gang, consider yourself directly on Baker’s wavelength. He (again like Steinbeck) sees these poor, neglected kids as unwitting victims of a budding second Great Depression. And he illustrates it beautifully by juxtaposing the I-just-wanna-have-fun imps with haunting scenes of their financially strapped parents desperately trying to round up enough cash to pay the $35-a-day rent. The result is a three-dimensional microcosm of the millions of families denied their share of the American dream by a corrupt system that tends to only reward the rich.

Baker isn’t out to make any bold or divisive statements beyond that, he’s just -- like his last film, the award-winning “Tangerine” -- putting up a window for us to see people and places most of us either don’t understand or care little about. Baker leaves it up to you to interpret right up to the abrupt, but powerful, ending, a coda guaranteed to completely blow you away. And the reason Baker’s story, which he co-wrote with Chris Bergoch, tugs so forcibly at your heart is because each inspiring and horrific event is seen through the innocent eyes of a child, most often Moonee.

In portraying her, Prince’s abilities are beyond words. You’d have to go back to the Fanning sisters to recall such a stunning debut by a child actor. She is so natural and unaffected in front of the camera that you forget she’s acting. And those eyes! When they well up and finally reveal the scared, lonely little girl hiding behind Moonee’s roughhewn exterior it causes you to break down right along with her.

As terrific as Prince is, she must take a back seat to the veteran Dafoe, who hasn’t been the subject of Oscar talk since his days on “Platoon” 30 years ago. Expect that to change come January, when he’ll be a shoo-in for a supporting actor nod for his incredible work as Bobby, the one and only adult who always has the kids’ backs, whether it’s shooing away a potential pedophile (one of the film’s best scenes) or protecting the children from the harsh realities of the adult world just beyond their understanding. In Bobby, Dafoe doesn’t just create a character, he transforms into him, making you love him, while at the same time earning your pity for a man, who like everyone else at Magic Castle, has been cruelly marginalized.

Not that Dafoe doesn’t garner a generous assist from director of photography Alexis Zabe, whose 35mm camera deftly wields behind the candy-colored facades along Seven Dwarfs Lane to reveal the misery that lurks just outside the Disney gates. It’s quite an upgrade over “Tangerine,” which Baker famously filmed entirely on his iPhone 5. But be patient, the iPhone again comes in handy in the movie’s final scene, when the production goes rogue by crashing the Disney gates to clandestinely film one of the most wrenching endings of a film I think I’ve ever seen. I still get weepy just thinking about it.

But what Baker wants you to remember even more about "The Florida Project" (the title a reference to what Disney World was called during its planning stages) is how society has turned a blind eye to a vicious cycle of children having children, as is the case with Moonee and her mother, Halley (Bria Vinaite, disturbingly real), who gave birth when she herself was just 16. We hear a lot about pro-life and the denial of free birth control, but we need to remember this is the result -- a generation of kids growing up poor, hungry and unshielded from moms who often must resort to selling their bodies to stay afloat. That’s our America in the age of Trump and a right-wing Congress. Baker doesn’t mention them by name, but they bear a responsibility for all the Moonees of the world whose sense of wonder will inevitably be crushed by a society that increasingly puts politics ahead of humanity. It’s a sad state of the state that one hopes a masterpiece like “The Florida Project” will one day rightfully correct.